Iphigenia
by cedricsowner
Summary: Torn between a burning desire for justice and an almost unbearable request David Rossi has to make a painful decision. I'm breaking one of my own writing rules here… consider it a holiday special… Slight references to episodes 2.15, 3.14 & 18.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds and intend no copyright infringement.**

Iphigenia

_The relationship between fathers and daughters has played a prominent role in humanity's collective consciousness ever since its first stirring in the dark ages. According to various ancient texts, Agamemnon, leader of the Achaean troops which fought against Troy, sacrificed his eldest daughter Iphigenia in order to change the winds which held the Greek fleet trapped in the bay of Aulis. _

Just a single sheet of paper. Only a couple of paragraphs. A few hundred words. Yet enough to turn his world upside down. David Rossi read the text again. Paused in the middle. Started at the beginning once more. Closed his eyes, opened them, blinked. No matter how often or in which manner he reread the witness statement, its meaning didn't change. He couldn't believe it.

"St. Michael's denies everything, of course. They say the nurse merely tries to divert attention from her deeds. An exhumation would surely put an end to that…" Detective Anderson, Chicago PD, looked at the profiler expectantly. He had come all the way to Virginia to inform the famous FBI profiler in person. Some things just couldn't be told over the phone.

The agent swallowed hard. "You've got my permission", he finally said. "But wait till I'm on site."

Rossi's first instinct was to grab his ready bag, hand in a request for time off and head to the airport as soon as possible without telling anyone what was going on. This was his personal business after all, wasn't it? _"Just like the Galen case had been your personal business, hadn't it?"_, a small voice in the back of his mind piped up. The agent tried to shake it off, but the soft whisper kept insisting: _"They stood by you back then and they helped you, didn't they?" _The voice changed, grew in strength and morphed – first into Hotchner's characteristic way of speaking: "_We're a team, David. That means we share things." _Then it sounded like Prentiss, back in Indianapolis: _"We care because you do." _

Reluctantly, he took out his cell phone, dialed – and cut the connection. _I need help_. Three simple words. It couldn't be too difficult to utter them, could it? He dialed again, only to disconnect once more right after the first signal. A second voice, raspier, more venomous, spoke up in his mind, addressing the profiler with bitter irony: "_Have you grown so weak over the years that you want someone to hold your hand while they open the grave?"_

At this very moment his phone rang. Rossi recognized the number at once. Hotch. Of course. He was calling to find out why his colleague had cut the connection twice. And now? Not answering wasn't an option. Aaron would keep on trying and if that turned out fruitless, he would activate Garcia. At the drop of a hat he would have the whole team on his heels. Taking a deep breath, the senior agent answered the call.

"Rossi, it's Hotch. You tried to reach me. What's the matter?"

"Aaron, I… I…" It was ridiculous. He just couldn't bring himself to say it.

Thanks to Hotchner being the man he was, he didn't need to. "When and where, David?", was all the Unit Chief asked.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds and intend no copyright infringement.**

Two hours later the team was on its way to the Windy City. The pilot announced slight turbulences. Preoccupied with listening to their Unit Chief reading from the witness statement that had thrown Rossi's life into a dither, the agents absent-mindedly fastened their seatbelts.

_"We informed the chief of medicine immediately. He wanted to call the police but several members of the supervisory board talked him out of it. The hospital was in financial trouble back then. Word had it that radical staff reductions were about to take place, probably the closure of complete wards. An incident like that would have aggravated the situation even more, so everyone kept mum. We were worried for our jobs, you know? The university's medical school stores some bodies in our morgue. I think that's where they got the dead infant. I cleaned and dressed the little girl myself. The chief of medicine attached the identity bracelets. Then he informed the mother that her child had died of sudden infant death syndrome. Since she had had an emergency caesarean under general anesthesia she had no idea what her real daughter looked like. She accepted the news without any doubts. Same with the father: He hadn't been present to see his child right after birth, so he also had no chance to realize that the dead baby wasn't his own. I swear to God, it's the truth: Fifteen years ago St. Michael's Hospital hushed up the kidnapping of an infant to preserve its reputation." _

Aaron Hotchner looked at his friend, stared at the statement in his hands, then looked at his friend again. He was lost for words.

"We were working a case in Minneapolis. Gideon had all but forced me at gunpoint to go home and I was already on my way to the airport, but then a new lead came up. The baby wasn't due to arrive in another 72 hours so I thought I had time enough. I turned around and went to talk to the new suspect instead of supporting my wife. When I finally arrived in Chicago, I was told that my daughter had died five hours after she was born", Rossi recounted with a strained voice. He drew a ragged breath before angrily adding: "In the death notice we actually thanked the ward's staff for all their efforts…"

"Why did this nurse come forward now, after so many years?", Reid demanded to know.

"Revenge. She was caught stealing drugs. Apparently she tried to pressure St. Michael's into dropping the charges against her. When that didn't work she decided to reveal what happened fifteen years ago", Rossi explained.

Prentiss shook her head in disbelief: "We're talking about 1993 – hospitals were already equipped with surveillance cameras and security personnel. How in the world could anyone just walk into the maternity ward and snatch a baby out of its cot?"

"It was a hellish night." Morgan summarized the information Garcia had hurriedly compiled. "A snowstorm was rolling over the city. Electricity supply was down for hours. A high-rise fire raged in the business district and a 20-car chain-reaction collision took place right in front of the hospital. Chaos reigned. It's possible someone slipped in and out unnoticed… "

"The nurse could be a fraud. Don't forget she's a drug addict and awaiting trial. We can't say anything for sure until we've got the result of the DNA analysis", Hotch reminded the others. "Try to get some sleep. All of you. We have an appointment at the graveyard tonight."

As his colleagues slowly dozed off, Rossi tried to order his thoughts. In a few hours' time a digger would tear open the deepest wound life had ever inflicted on him. He found himself unable to imagine the consequences.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds and intend no copyright infringement.**

The bucket made a squelching noise as it dug into the ground. Prior to their arrival it had been raining in Chicago for days and even now a soft drizzle was falling. JJ had offered him an umbrella, but Rossi preferred to stand unsheltered.

_"Mr. David Rossi? Husband of Mrs. Suzanne Rossi?"_

_"I was told my wife had to undergo an emergency caesarean. Is she alright? What about my daughter?"_

_"Your wife's condition gives no reason for concern." _

_"My daughter? Charlotte?"_

_"I'm sorry, Mr. Rossi. Please accept my deepest sympathy…" _

Six feet are not terribly much. It didn't take long before the machine reached the remains of the small coffin.

_"Maybe if I had had children, I would have tried harder" His words to Hotch, back in Boston - had he really tried harder? Granted, he had ended his affair with that secretary the day after Suzanne had told him she was pregnant. He hadn't even thought of another woman in the following months. But then, in Minneapolis, one of the local cops, a slim redhead… – hell, they had only shared a couple of drinks. Nothing had happened… Except that his daughter had died. Some people would have interpreted this concurrence of circumstances as a form of divine punishment. Rossi had never been one to believe that God could be so cruel. That didn't reduce the weight of guilt he felt, though. _

The pathologist and his assistant lowered themselves into the hole and carefully wrapped up what was left of coffin and body.

_"I'm sorry, Suzanne. Desperately sorry."_

_"It's over David."_

_"I know I should have been here, but…"_

_"There's no "but", David. You're right, you should have been here. You weren't. End of discussion. Even if I wanted to, I would never be able to forgive that."_

A gentle touch on his shoulder brought Rossi back to the present. Morgan was standing next to him. "Come on, man, let's get back to the hotel. It'll be a long night."


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds and intend no copyright infringement.**

Like a good mother hen, Hotch sent them all to bed, but Rossi didn't even bother to change into his pajamas. He walked up and down his room, leafed through the book he kept in his ready bag, tried some TV and finally turned everything off. Standing at the window, he looked at night-time Chicago and its million lights dimly illuminating the cloudy sky. Suzanne's face haunted him. She had died in a car accident in 1998, never having spoken to him again after the fateful night their daughter was born. Formulating the death notice had been the last thing they had done together. A soft knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

"You should really get some rest, David", Hotchner said, still in suit and tie himself.

"If the DNA analysis confirms the nurse's story, Charlotte could still be alive. Hell, Hotch, maybe she's only a few blocks away. One of the lights out there could have been switched on by her. But even if we passed on the street, I wouldn't recognize her."

"Wait till we have the result. Everything else is just fruitless speculation", the Unit Chief tried to calm down his friend.

Another knock on the door kept Rossi from replying. It was Reid, fully dressed, too. Betraying himself as the bad liar that he was, he stuttered: "There's a documentation about Quantum Physics on the Discovery Channel. I helped writing the script… The TV in my room doesn't work properly… Would you mind if I…?" He scuttled into the room like a young mouse and of course he didn't even glance at the television set.

Two minutes later JJ appeared, carrying a stack of files. "There's some paperwork that really needs to be done, but the lights in my room…"

Prentiss slipped in behind her, also carrying a couple of Manila folders: "Yeah… same problem… paperwork… lights too dim…"

Morgan didn't even bother about a pretext: "You didn't really think we would leave you alone in a night like this?" He joined Reid who had already settled down on the bedspread. They began a card game. The women retreated to the far end of the furniture, leaning against the headboard.

"You know that you should all be in bed by now?", Hotch addressed his team, trying to sound stern.

"Technically, we are", Reid murmured.

"Either you're sleep talking, boss, or you're not heeding your own counsel", Morgan replied dryly.

"We're just following your shining example", Prentiss stated, suppressing a smile. JJ tossed him a pillow.

An hour crept by in silence. Reid and Morgan quietly played, not really concentrating. JJ tried working through a file but found herself unable to pay attention for more than a few seconds in a row. Prentiss caught herself reading the same sentence thrice without understanding. Their leaders sat frozen by the window. As the clock struck three, the stillness became unbearable.

"In Russia this is called wolf's hour", Reid spoke up. "It's the time of night the wolves start howling. KGB and Gestapo used this hour to drag in suspects for questioning. Psychologists have discovered that the body is most vulnerable and least alert between three and four o'clock in the morning. It's statistically proven that this is the time span during which most people either die or are born."

"Number 57", Morgan murmured.

"Excuse me?" Reid was puzzled.

"I've got a list of things I never wanted to know but learned anyway because I'm acquainted with you."

"You're working with him for _years_ now and you've only reached number 57?", Prentiss blurted out.

"I started compiling last week."

Suddenly Rossi's cell phone rang. Seeing the number on the display the profiler couldn't help but smile for a split second. Of course she wouldn't let herself be excluded. Hotch, who had recognized the number, too, shrugged his shoulders in an almost sheepish gesture: "We are a team", he said.

Rossi accepted the call and turned it into loudspeaker mode.

"Garcia, don't tell me you spent the last few hours hacking into the crime lab's computer system to catch the results as soon as they come in…" Hotch said, trying to sound stern and no-nonsense once more.

"Okay sir, I'm not telling you", the technical researcher replied, a wide smile audible in her tone.

Nerves tight, Rossi interrupted them: "I'm listening, Garcia."

"The lab checked the results twice", she reported, her voice trembling with sympathy. "The infant from the grave is not your daughter."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds and intend no copyright infringement.**

Chicago PD set up a conference room for them. Detective Anderson compiled all police files concerning the night of 18th February 1993 and assured the agents that he would provide any help they needed.

If they only knew what they needed.

Despite all their experience, knowledge and ingenuity: After two grueling days of meticulous research they still didn't have a single piece of solid information to at least get started from. In the hecticness and the haste of that night nobody on the undermanned ward had noticed anything out of the ordinary - until the empty cot was discovered. Due to the power outage they had no surveillance videos to work with. Victimology wasn't helping either: Reid told them that women who kidnap infants usually plan to raise the children themselves. They sometimes suffer from pseudocyesis and are usually driven by the intense wish to have a baby, often to fix a failing relationship. Most take good care of the abductees and develop the conviction that the child is their own. The abduction often either follows a miscarriage or a time span during which the woman feigns pregnancy to keep her relationship from breaking, so Prentiss, Reid and JJ trawled through all reported cases of home births in the Greater Chicago area, but brought up nothing. A mass genetic test would have probably helped, but no judge was willing to support that and how many people should they test? Garcia foundered on the enormous number of miscarriages prior to the particular date – way too many to look at each case individually. And what if the woman had never reported the miscarriage or wasn't from Chicago?

"We could inform the media…", JJ suggested.

"What are we going to say? _We're looking for a woman who had a baby after one or more miscarriages or after being diagnosed with infecundity or whose relationship was going down the drain?_" Hotch shook his head. "We have no description whatsoever – we'll get a million phone calls without a single criteria to sort them out."

Rossi got up, exasperatedly. "Is this all we can come up with? The best profilers in the world?", he thundered. Nobody spoke up to argue. They all knew he was actually yelling at himself.

Suddenly Reid froze in mid-motion. His eyes widened. They all knew this expression: He was having one of his light bulb moments. For a minute or two nobody dared to disturb. Then Rossi couldn't stand the tension anymore. "What is it, Reid? Spit it out!"

A tiny light of hope gleamed in the young doctor's eyes as he turned to his elder colleague: "Maybe there's a chance for a fortunate coincidence…."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds and intend no copyright infringement.**

An accident as big as the one that had happened in front of St. Michael's was bound to be covered by about every newspaper and TV channel in the area. Reid's idea was that maybe a photographer or cameraman had coincidentally taken a picture of the unsub while coming out of the building with the baby. Since there were eleven major newspapers, over a hundred smaller ones and about a dozen local TV stations in town they had quite a lot of material to look at, but they knew what they were looking for. They felt they were making progress. At least in the beginning.

Can you say "repeated frustration"? In the end they turned up with nothing again. Prentiss voiced what they all thought when she slammed down her fist on the evening of the sixth day and complained: "Okay, nobody expected a high-definition shot of a woman with a blanket-wrapped baby, rushing from the hospital and disappearing in a car with a clearly visible license plate, but would a tiny little breadcrumb of information have been too much to ask for?"

"Did we really look at everything?" Morgan had hardly ever felt so helpless, despite the fact that his mother, who lived in Chicago, told him every night to have faith and keep on trying.

"Two newspapers only sent the original articles – one lost its photo archive in a fire a couple of years ago, the other had a digital one which fell prey to a computer virus", Reid said, holding up the two yellowed newspapers in question.

"They won't be of any help", Prentiss said, unfolding the first and handing the second to JJ. "The pictures are way too grainy… maybe Garcia can work on them, but to me it doesn't look as if… hey, what's that?" A single sheet of paper was stuck between the pages. In its shiny whiteness it looked quite new.

"Looks like an order for back issues", Hotchner mused, glancing at it. "Someone named Mayan Stevenson ordered a copy of this issue about six months ago. Seems the newspaper's service department forgot to remove the form after fulfilling the order." He shrugged and put the sheet aside. Frowning, Reid reached for it and stared at it, deep in thought.

"What is it, Reid?", Rossi asked, studying him carefully.

"It's probably just a coincidence, but this name… " The young doctor took out his cell phone: "Garcia, can you find out if a Mayan – M – A – Y – A – N - Stevenson ordered back issues of 19th February 1993 from any newspapers in Greater Chicago?"

"What's wrong with the name, kid?", Morgan demanded to know, but Garcia had a search result before Reid could answer.

"Mayan Stevenson ordered back issues from the Chicago Reader, the Chicago Standard News and the Chicago Sun Times. She ordered them all between six and eight months ago, but she didn't merely order issues from the 19th, she also ordered issues from the whole week before the 19th and the week after the 19th."

Reid's frown deepened as he listened to Garcia's report. "Can you now try and find out if anyone else ordered back issues from this particular timeframe?", he asked her.

"REID! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS ABOUT?" Rossi looked as if he was considering the use of force to get the answer out of him. The rest of the team would have probably supported such a measure: Reid's inability to communicate when caught in sudden inspiration was truly unnerving in a situation as tense as this.

"Mayan Stevenson" is the name of a character in a book called "The lost father" by Mona Simpson. The book is about a young woman who looks for her father in order to get a grip on life", Reid explained, oblivious to the fact how close he had been to severe torture.

Garcia spoke up again: "Finally a ray of light, my Sunshines! I'm not sure what you're on to, but this sounds exiting: ALL newspapers in Greater Chicago received back issue orders between twelve and six months ago. They all concerned the two weeks centering around the 18th February 1993. These orders were seemingly placed by five different persons, Mayan Stevenson, Molly Parker, Amanda Lord, Miranda Carson and Ruby Konning, but… here comes the kicker – apparently the five ladies all shared one post office box, located in Madison, Wisconsin. According to Madison's main post office, the box isn't in use anymore, but it was originally rented by Randall Trapker, a police-known persistent offender with an armful of arrests for petty crimes."

The complete team stared at Reid, open-mouthed. Had he just single-handedly made the breakthrough they had all been praying for in the last six days?

"All these names are characters from books", the young doctor explained. "Molly Parker is the protagonist of Mike Lupica's "Miracle on 49th street", Amanda Lord describes the search for her father in her same titled biography, Miranda Carson is the main character in Robin Jones Gunn's "Finding Father Christmas" and Ruby Konning can be found in Lee Roddy's "Danger on Thunder Mountain". These books address different age groups and are of different categories, but they have one thing in common: They all deal with a daughter's search for an absent father."

"Could it be…?", Rossi hoarsely whispered. "But who…?"

"Let's not be hasty in our judgment", Hotchner said, getting up. "This could be a coincidence. JJ, get the jet ready. We'll see which role Mr. Trapker plays in this."


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds and intend no copyright infringement.**

Randall Trapker was an absolute multi-sensual experience: Ugly, scruffy and unwashed, he was both an eyesore and a hazard to any person with an at least rudimentary developed scenting ability. Dogs probably fled from him. Besides that he spoke in a slow drawl that drove everyone frantic: "One day 'bout a year ago I was having lunch at some fast food restaurant when this kid walked up to me – offered me fifty dollars if I rented a PO Box for her. Hey, fifty dollars are fifty dollars… Paid cash, never seen her again…" He trained his pig-like eyes on the agents, curling his chapped lips in what was supposed to be a contemptuous smile. "Whatever she did, it's got nothing to do with me… "

"You know it's illegal renting PO Boxes on behalf of other persons, don't you?", Hotchner asked matter-of-factly.

"Hey, I was just helping out a little girl."

"You're a real knight in shining armor", Morgan said, voice dripping with irony.

"What did she look like? How old was she?" The last six days had pushed Rossi to the limit. The mere idea of getting stuck again, now that they were finally making progress, drove him up the walls. Hotch could preach caution all he want, now that Trapker had mentioned a teenage girl he was sure Charlotte was out there somewhere. But where? He felt the urgent need to grab the punk by the throat and choke the answers out of him.

Trapker looked at the senior agent, decided that he was facing a man on the edge of his self-control and made a life-saving decision by telling the agents what he knew without further ado: "Fourteen, fifteen maybe. Skinny. Not developed yet, you know…" He made a crude gesture to indicate the girl's flat bust. …Okay, probably not so life-saving after all, but hey, nobody said he was very clever… Hotch and Derek both quickly put their hands down on Rossi's shoulders in what looked like a casual gesture. "But with potential, though – give her a year or two…", Trapker elaborated, not realizing that he was playing with fire. Hotchner and Morgan increased the pressure on Rossi's shoulders.

"Stick to the facts, will you?" Derek told the dealer through clenched teeth.

"Okay… she had long, dark hair. Curls. Brown eyes. Hispanic maybe… or Greek. No, wait… Italian. Yeah, that's it – one of them goombahs she was." Derek managed to steer Rossi out of the room before anything could happen that would result in a lot of paperwork.

Hotch followed them after a few minutes. "We'll sit him down with a sketch artist. Do you think you could get a photo of Suzanne when she was around fourteen? And we'll be needing one of yours from that time, too. Then Garcia can morph these pictures with the sketch – this way we should get quite an accurate portray of the girl."

Rossi looked straight at his friend. "It could really be, couldn't it? Charlotte tried to find her roots and we're following her footsteps now."

Reid slowly nodded: "Under certain circumstances it is a possibility. Let's assume she somehow found out – maybe through an old diary entry or because she overheard something – that she isn't her parents' child and that she was obtained unlawfully. Let's furthermore speculate she's quite sure about her place and date of birth. Her steps are quite logical: She tried to figure out who her parents are by looking for reports of an abducted infant in back issues around that date."

"Only she came up with zilch because the abduction was never reported to the police", Morgan said.

At this very moment, his cell phone rang. It was Garcia: "Uh, Derek, is Agent Rossi around?" She was unfamiliarly formal. Rossi drew a sharp breath. She had found something out. And the way she sounded, it wasn't good news.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds and intend no copyright infringement.**

"I don't know where to start…" Their usually so eloquent technical researcher was groping around for words. "The false names the girl used got me thinking… She seems to be very clever and being her father's daughter she's probably quite relentless, too, so I found it odd that she just stopped searching…"

"Garcia, come to the point!" Rossi was famous for his steely composure, but the developments of the last week had taken their toll.

"Do you know that your publishing house is running a "David Rossi News E-Mail Service"? Fans can subscribe to it in order to get informed about your books, tours etc. I checked the list of subscribers … it was a wild guess, really and I don't know why I did it in the first place … I somehow woke up with the idea this morning…"

"GARCIA!"

"A person named Mayan Atassi signed in six months ago."

Reid's eyes widened in utter surprise: "Oh my God, that's unbelievable…"

"Reid, I swear I shoot you if you don't explain what this means in the next thirty seconds", Rossi thundered.

"And I help him hide the body!", Morgan added, as much on tenterhooks as his elder colleague.

"At the beginning of Mona Simpson's novel "The lost father" the protagonist calls herself Ann Stevenson, the name her mother gave her. When she takes up the search for him, she changes her name to Mayan Stevenson, the name her father originally chose for her. The moment she finds him, she starts calling herself Mayan Atassi, using his last name instead of her mother's."

Rossi collapsed into a chair.

"Are you saying the false name indicates that this girl _found out_ that David is her father?", Prentiss asked, flabbergasted.

Garcia spoke up again: "I tried to track the e-mail with which this Mayan Atassi signed in, but she hid her IP-address quite cleverly, using a rare proxy. I was only able to establish that it came from somewhere in Wisconsin."

"But how…?" JJ was puzzled.

Rossi got up again and started walking to and fro. "Reid was right", he muttered. "Charlotte originally ordered the back issues to see if there were any reports about an abducted infant. We thought she gave up when she found nothing. But what if she didn't? What if she knew for sure that she was born in Chicago sometime in February? Based on that knowledge she figured out that the best chance to kidnap a child was in the night of 18th February in St. Michael's hospital, considering the chaos that reigned right in front of it. Regarding the missing reports she concluded that the abduction was hushed up somehow. In that case, what would you do next?"

"I would search the death notices, looking for an infant that died in that particular night in St. Michael's Hospital", Hotch said, nodding.

"I think it's time for some serious profiling", Morgan stated, suddenly full of energy. "She's fifteen, that means she has no access to a car and a limited home range. She seems to be allowed to move freely around Madison, so she's probably a local girl. We should send her picture to the schools in the area – I bet she's an honor student. Someone is bound to recognize her."

The team members were buzzing with excitement - even Hotch made a more optimistic impression – but Rossi couldn't ignore his gut feeling. He exited the room and called Garcia again. "The change of names signifies that Charlotte must be quite sure about me being her father. Why didn't she come forward then?"

"My first idea was that she was afraid, sir", Garcia replied reluctantly. "But the meticulous way she covered her tracks points in another direction… ."

Rossi knew what she meant. He had come to the same conclusion. Nevertheless, hearing it from another person made the realization even more painful.

"First find her", Garcia told him emphatically. "Then worry about everything else."


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds and intend no copyright infringement.**

"This is hell!" Prentiss was a bundle of nerves. So was the rest of the team – after two days of waiting and hoping it became clear that not a single teacher in Wisconsin recognized the girl. "It's impossible! She's fifteen, she must go to school somewhere!"

"Unless she gets homeschooled", Reid chipped in. "A woman who is so desperate that she steals a child is probably rather protective about her."

"If that's the case she must live very close to or in Madison, otherwise she wouldn't be allowed to walk around alone", Prentiss mused. "But how do we find her? The list of homeschooled 15 year olds is quite long around here. If we give her picture to the media or ask too many questions in the homeschooling community, the parents might try to flee."

"We could bait her", JJ said.

The plan was as simple as it was brilliant: Via the David Rossi News E-Mail Service the publishing house informed all his fans that Mr. Rossi himself would give a public lecture on the importance of psychology in law enforcement – suitable for teenagers who were thinking about a career in that field, in a high school in Madison, on a Sunday afternoon, public transport available. By any normal standards the girl was bound to appear. By normal standards. But nothing in this investigation had worked out smooth so far – no wonder everyone was on edge when the day finally came.

Under Garcia's watchful eyes they set up a regular little command center in the principal's office and placed surveillance cameras practically everywhere. Hotch, Rossi and Garcia sat down to watch the monitors. Morgan, Reid, Prentiss and JJ went to scan the crowd from within. They were all interconnected over the radio. Slowly the people started pouring in. The tickets for the lecture had sold like hot cake. Suddenly a mane of dark, curly hair bobbed up in the endless stream of teenagers, parents and teachers entering the auditorium. Rossi's heart skipped a beat. JJ's call came in practically the same moment: "I think I've got her."


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds and intend no copyright infringement.**

Alice had never been one to believe in signs, omens or horoscopes, but the last year had taught her to trust her gut. It had been a gut feeling that had made her pay attention to the fact that her blond, blue-eyed parents had no pictures whatsoever of her mother visibly pregnant. The same gut feeling had urged her to secretly order a DNA analysis from a private laboratory and to nose around in her mother's old stuff where she stumbled upon the diary which contained the information about her original birthplace and had helped her to establish the approximate date of her real birthday.

When she had woken up this morning with her stomach feeling like a tight knot, she had attributed this to the fact that she was about to see her father in person. But now, sitting in the high school's auditorium, she still wasn't feeling any better. Besides that, she knew what excitement felt like. This wasn't excitement, this was more ominous, more sinister. Something was wrong.

Alice looked around, reevaluating all the steps she had taken so far. Since her mother had been sick again all through last week, obtaining the permission to attend from her father hadn't been a problem. They had no idea why she had wanted to be here so badly. So what? "Relax, Alice – your parents are in the dark, nobody knows your little secret…" A movement caught the girl's eye. A young, blond woman at the far end of the hall was seemingly talking to herself. Alice looked closer. No. She wasn't talking to herself. She was talking into a radio. So was a young man right next to the stage and an imposing Afro-American by the left door. What were they doing here?

Adrenaline rushed in torrents through her veins. "No reason to panic", she told herself vehemently. "This probably means nothing … but it's better to take no risks. Just walk out of here. Slowly and calmly." As she got up and gathered her things she felt eyes on her. The young man near the stage was watching her. This wasn't good. Absolutely not good. But how…? "You can ponder that question later. First get out of here!", she thought grimly, ordering herself to appear relaxed and content.

"She knows!", Rossi's voice came over the radio. "She's leaving!"

"Approach her. Talk to her", Hotchner commanded.

"Don't scare her!", Rossi added, a note of panic in his voice. This girl was his daughter, definitely. He needed no DNA analysis to validate this feeling. Some things you just know. A dark sense of foreboding swept over him.

Back in the auditorium a lucky coincidence came to Alice's rescue: A woman had slipped and fallen right in front of the door Prentiss was watching. As the people started piling up, the agent lost track for a moment and missed the girl passing through. Morgan came dashing after her. When Alice heard him yell "Block all exits – she can't be far. The cameras will pick her up!", the girl realized she had lost. She couldn't know that, but the decision she then made was a true Rossi decision.

"She's still in the building", Hotchner told his friend. "We've got surveillance cameras everywhere – she won't get out. See, there she is again." He pointed at one of the monitors. "But where's she heading?" The Unit Chief was puzzled.

"She's doing what I would do, trapped in a hopeless situation like this", Rossi said, getting up.

"And that would be?", Hotchner asked, still mystified.

"Seek confrontation", the senior agent answered and opened the door to lock eyes with his daughter for the first time in his life.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds and intend no copyright infringement.**

"So you've found me", Alice stated. They had all sat down in the principal's office.

"You found me first", Rossi replied, still enthralled by the beautiful, seraphic kid that was his. "Why didn't you contact me?"

"You would put my parents in jail", she answered, looking him straight in the eyes.

Rossi's spirit sank. "They stole you from your mother and me", he gave back, his stomach turning. He had suspected an explanation like that.

"My father didn't do anything. My mom took me away. But she's very sick now. A jail term would kill her."

"They are not your parents. Your real mother went to her grave heart-broken, thinking you're dead. She loved you so much, don't you think she would have liked to meet you? We got divorced… – everything went down the drain with your death, Charlotte."

"My name is Alice. I don't want to sound cold, but I've never met my real mother, so I can't mourn her. And you are a complete stranger to me. The people who raised me are my parents. Wonderful parents who have always been there for me and done absolutely everything for me. Especially my father. A jury would send them both to prison. It surely would kill my mother, but it would also kill me – I don't want to be responsible for ruining their lives."

Not even when Rossi had heard the Galen children cry for their parents had he felt so helpless and forlorn. His daughter loved the people that had abducted her. The realization didn't come as a shock. He had known it beforehand – there had been no other explanation for her not contacting him. But foreseen or not, it didn't reduce the agonizing pain he felt.

"It's not in your hands anymore, kid", Hotchner intervened. "You don't really think we can simply ignore a major crime like that and just let you walk?" She turned to him, facing him directly. Hotch was amazed how much she looked like her father. The same unrelenting stare, the same wild fire burning in dark eyes. He shook his head. "No way", he said.

Rossi watched his daughter and his friend argue and could barely withhold the tears. Here she sat – the long lost child, finally, after an exhausting search, in his arm's reach. Rejecting him. The law was on his side. He had every right in the world to take her home with him. But would she love him? Or would she hate him for the fate that awaited the people who raised her? Could he live with that? He wanted her to be happy.

"You can't be sure I'm his daughter. You need a DNA test before you can arrest anyone", Alice told Hotchner.

"Don't worry about that. We'll have the result in an hour. The crime lab is already waiting." The Unit Chief himself put on gloves and took the samples from his colleague and the girl.

"I'll bring them to the lab", Rossi offered, but the Unit Chief vehemently shook his head.

"Absolutely not, David. I'm not going to give you the chance to tamper with the evidence. I know you: You think you'd rather lose her again than standing that she hates you – that's not how it works, my friend. She is your daughter and that makes her the single most important thing in your life. That doesn't change whether she loves you or not. It will probably take years before she forgives you what's going to happen to her abductors, but she is your child. You have no idea what you're willing to throw away. Don't give her up because you shy away from the consequences. Reid delivers the sample to the lab."


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds and intend no copyright infringement.**

The result came a little later than one hour. The lab rechecked it several times, but no matter how meticulously they tried, it didn't change. The samples didn't match. Alice wasn't Rossi's daughter. They had to let her go. Hotch wondered if he should get a warrant that would force Alice's parents to prove she really was their daughter, but in the end he decided against it. He had no solid evidence whatsoever that would persuade a judge. A decision had been made. Aaron had tried to fight it with all his heart and soul, but it had been made nevertheless. He should have seen it coming – why had he asked Reid, of all people?

Tired and worn down by the fruitlessness of all their efforts, the team packed up. Rossi left the building, telling the others he needed fresh air. Nobody questioned that after the emotional rollercoaster ride of the last few weeks. They all admired his self-composure, considering that he still didn't know where his child was and that all his chances to find her had vanished into thin air. A few minutes later Reid showed up to load his bag into the SUV. The senior agent assisted him.

"Why did you exchange the samples?", he asked.

"Institutionalizing my mother was the hardest thing I've ever done and it still haunts me in my dreams. It has shaped my personality and it hurts me every time I think of it. By making that decision I created my own personal hell. I don't agree with Hotch. I don't think you can ever truly come to terms with that. Faced with the decision between your and your daughter's happiness I figured you would choose your daughter's. Besides that, Alice is not out of your life, is she? She knows, doesn't she…?"

Rossi nodded. "I'm pretty sure she has an idea of what you did even though she won't know why. I'll explain it to her – I think Garcia will figure out some safe way of communication for us." Gratefully, he patted the young doctor's back.

A day later, David Rossi received an e-mail through a very special delivery service, set up by one of the world's best computer specialists. It contained only one sentence, but it was enough to give his life a whole new meaning: "I love you, too, Dad."

**author's note: Merry Christmas everyone!**


End file.
